After The Bath

This one day I come in from the office and call out to you.

"I'm in the bath," I hear you reply. That's nice, I think. I go to the kitchen and open a bottle of wine and pour two glasses. In the bedroom I take off my coat and tie, unloosen my collar and go into the bath room with the glasses, sitting on the edge of the tub. You've been playing with the bubble-bath, silly girl; the tub is overflowing with bubbles. I hand you a glass, and ask how your day has been.

"Fine," you say. "I was a little lonely."

"Did you miss me?" I ask.

"Yes. I had no one to play with."

"But yourself."

"Stop," you protest.

"So you didn't masturbate today?" I press.

"Well..." you coo, coyly, "maybe a little."

I take a sip of wine, then put my glass down and take off my shirt.

"Here," I say. "Let's get you washed." I reach over you and grab the sponge, dunk it into the water and squeeze. "Move forward, let me get your back."

You lean forward and take a sip of wine. I scrub your back, around your neck and reach down to scrub your bum. Sitting up-right now, billows of suds cover your breasts. You play with the bubbles, making little peaks over your nipples. I kiss you on the top of the head, then pull the soapy sponge around to wash the front of your neck.

"Do my front too," you say.

"'Please'?" I taunt.

"Please."

"I thought you'd never ask," I laugh.

You lean back and rest your head on the back of the tub as I slide the sponge over your chest, between and then under your breasts. I squeeze out the water and suck in more, then ease my hand under the water to rub the sponge over your mons. I hear a little sigh escape your lips.

"You like that," I comment.

"Yes," you admit. "I've been horny all day."

"And you haven't masturbated?"

"Just a little. I was waiting for you to come home."

"My good little Cupcake."

Releasing the sponge, I let my fingers slide between the lips of your pussy. I can feel your clitoris, it's hard. When I touch it, you let out a little gasp.

"Okay," I say, "let's slow down. Move up."

"Where?"

"I was to wash your ass. I plan on eating it later."

"Yes, daddy," you coo, leaning forward to let my run the sponge between your ass cheeks. I let go of the sponge again, and slip a finger into your anus.

"Nice and clean," I say, and you reach up one hand to anchor yourself to my arm. I stoke my finger in and out of your tight little bum-hole, imagining how it will be when I fill it with my cock.

Yes, I'm getting hard thinking about taking you, making you my own. But I shake off the reverie, pull my hands out of the water, and grab for a towel.

"Stand up," I say. "Let me spray you off."

I hit the drain cock and turn on the water, pulling down the hand-held shower head. I adjust the water temperature as you're standing there, waiting for me, globs of bubbles dripping from your breasts and belly and hips. I stand up and hose you off, the gentle spray liquidating the bubbles.

"Turn around and let me do your back," I say. You're such a good little girl, accepting my ever request, complying with each command. You're leaning forward with your butt thrust back. I want to bite it, and I do. Then I adjust the spray of the shower to 'pulse' and aim the jets of water at your puffy labia. With my hand, I spread your butt cheeks and then point the stream at your asshole. You're holding tight to the towel rod, and I can tell by the way that you're clenching the pulsing jets of water are effecting you. My cock is hard in my pants, watching you squirm as the water pounds against your delicate flesh.

The tub is finally drained, and I spray down your legs and feet. "Turn around," I say, aiming the jet of water directly at your pussy. "I think you need a shave. I want your pussy smooth."

I turn off the water and hang up the shower. "Sit down," I say, "and dry off." I get my shaving kit out of the cabinet as you dry yourself. "I'm going to shave you." You sit on the shelf at the back of the tub, calmly drying your legs, but I can tell you're a little nervous. I shake the can of shaving foam and lay the razor next you on the shelf, then kneel beside you.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask hopefully.

"Of course. I don't want to damage that perfect little pussy." I lean forward a flick a drop of water of your nipple. I'm not surprised that they're hard, poking forward from your delicate little breasts. I can feel the dampness of my pre-come leaking in my pants and imagine that your pussy juices are flowing too. Then you hear the spray of the foam as it aerosols out of the can and onto my fingers. "Spread," I order, and you move your knees apart, giving me access to your sweet pussy. I gently lave the foam over the short pubic hairs, deliberately massaging the foam into the softest flesh on your tender body. Your labia are engorged and puffy; this will be easy.

You reach a hand out and grab my naked shoulder, partially to steady yourself, partially to feel connected to the arm and hand that will hold the blade which will be soon touching your pussy. I turn the hot water tap on and warm up the razor. My cock is pulsing now and oozing as your lather-coated pussy is right before my face. "Good girl," I say, "Don't worry; this will be fast and easy."

I bring the blade to your pussy, and gently swipe down, removing the hair neatly. The blade is new and sharp. I swipe down the other side, holding the flesh of your lips between my fingers to give a straight area to shave. You're holding your breath, but from the flow of lubricant you're producing, I can tell the fear is an aphrodisiac. I shave the delicate little hairs of your peritoneum (the 'tween--between your pussy and asshole) and then work on the delta of hair over your mons. Should I leave a "landing strip"? I wonder. Or maybe a little triangle of fuzz, pointing towards the center of your pleasure and mine. I decide to leave a thin strip of short hair--just enough for you to know that you're a full-grown woman.

You're fingers are digging into my shoulder involuntarily, and only loosen their grip when I say: "Done." I run the sponge under the tap and wash away the remaining drops of foam. Your pussy is clean and smooth and I can't resist leaning forward and taking a lick. I feel you fingers again against the flesh of my collar. But not yet. I don't want you to come yet.

I stand up, and you can see the outline of my hard-on against the fabric of my suit pants. You reach out to stroke my cock and then quickly pull down the zipper and dig it out. Even though we've been together some time, you're surprised by how wet my underwear are, how much pre-come I've spilt during this episode. You've got my cock out of the fly now, and grab my ass and pull me towards you, sucking me into your mouth. I love how you suck my cock, but want to wait. I have something special in mind; I pull out. "Not yet, my cupcake."

I put the shaving things away, and toss you another towel. "Put that on and go into the lounge and enjoy your wine," I say. "I'll be along shortly." You wrap the towel around your waist, and take the glass as I've requested. You look like a Tahitian maiden from "Mutiny on the Bounty" walking out of the room, long black hair flowing, naked except for the sarong-like towel around your waist.

I go into the bedroom and take off my shoes, socks and suit pants which I hang up. My underwear are soaked, but I leave them on, hoping the dark spot in the front will please you. On the way from the bedroom to the lounge, I stop and grab the bottle of wine so I can top up your glass. When I enter the room, you're sitting on the sofa, gently stroking your pussy, happily surprised at the clean-shaven look and feel. I fill your glass and you feel my cock straining against the fabric of my briefs.

"Take me," you implore. "I need you to fuck me."

"I will," I say, "in time." I sit in a chair opposite the sofa. "First I want to watch you. Go ahead, play with yourself. Show me how you masturbate waiting for me to come home."

I love the look of your slick, hairless slit. You pull your legs apart and begin to stroke your pussy. It's already quite wet, and I imagine the heat being generated. You skootch your butt forward to the edge of the sofa and spread your lips with the tips of your fingers. Then you plunge one finger into your hot, wet cunt for lube and begin stroking your clit, hard. My cock is aching and your eyes are fixed on it as we sit opposite each other. I move my hands under my ass--it's all I can do to keep from stroking it as I watch you play with yourself.

"Make yourself come," I say, "really finger yourself." I want nothing more than to sink my tongue between your lips and lap up the nectar you're producing, nothing more than releasing my cock and fucking you hard. I watch your fingers dance across your clit and dip in between your lips and imagine my cock sliding there, filling you up, pounding into you. "Come for me, Cupcake. Make yourself come," I encourage. "Stroke your slit." Your fingers are frantic now; although you're still staring at the outline of the hard rod in my crotch, your eyes are glazed over and I can tell you're lost in the ecstasy of your own pleasure. You have two fingers buried deep inside you now, and you're touching that special spot deep within your pussy just behind your clit. A low moan slowly slips from your open mouth and I believe you're about to come. I leave my chair and kneel before you, my mouth only inches from your cunt, my eyes glued to your fingers plunging in and out of your pussy. "Oh fuck," you say, "oh goddamn." You're close, very close. "Ohh, ohh, ohhhhh my god!" you scream as your body stiffens and the first wave of orgasm breaks across you, moving from deep within the pit of your pussy, outward until your skin is all aglow.

I grab your wrist and pull your fingers out of you and suck them into my mouth at the same time inserting two of my own. You arch your back as another orgasm pulses through you when I hit the g-spot with my fingers burrowed deep inside you. The taste of your cunt juice from your fingers was an intoxicant and I want you more right that moment then ever before. With my fingers buried in your cunt, I pull you off the sofa and onto the floor. You're stunned, but not enough to prevent you from pushing my underwear over my hips and finally releasing my cock.

"Fuck me, Frankie, fuck me hard!" you cry out, guiding my rock-hard prick towards your cunt. I don't slow or resist or hesitate: once you have me aimed in the right place, I sink my prick into you in one smooth stroke, filling you, stretching you. There is nothing between us now: no emotion, no tenderness, no affection. We are animals. I am a cock pulsing and pushing, you are a cunt, a hole, a receptacle. I need emptying, you need filling. I pump into you as hard as I can, driving my rod into you again and again and again. Your cunt is a mess of goo and one orgasm after another explodes inside you. And now I feel it, my own orgasm is about to start. The simple thought of my semen filling your cunt is enough to send me over the edge and I stiffen as I spurt deep inside you. "You bitch," I moan as jet after jet of come pulses into your cunt, "you sexy little bitch." I collapse on top of you in a heap of sweaty flesh and bones.

And then I realize I hadn't kissed you yet. I want to invade your mouth with my tongue as I'd just invaded your cunt with my cock. When I taste your tongue against mine, I was floating in a daze of emotion. My good little Cupcake, I think. My good little girl. We lay there kissing as my cock softens and plops out of your hairless pussy. It was just 7:00. My mind gradually expands around the reality of the time and the place, and I roll off you.

"I think I need a bath," you say.

"Me too," I reply, imagining the possibilities for the rest of the night.